


A Song To Haunt By

by Silvermoonphantom



Category: Danny Phantom, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Culture, Culture Shock, Gen, Ghosts, Good Parent Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, I'm making him 16 for this, Minor Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Musical Instruments, Self-Indulgent, Teenage Dorks, Wilderness Survival, Yo Danny Fenton HE WAS JUST 14
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvermoonphantom/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom
Summary: Ghosts and Music | Danny chases Ember into the Módào Zǔshī world, and we explore the similarities between the two.
Relationships: relationships are not the main focus - Relationship
Comments: 120
Kudos: 222
Collections: AsianDramas, The Timelesses





	1. Chapter 1

It started with a disharmony of chords. 

Sounds clashing, spiking, crashing against each other in a scythe of visible force that cleaved the air around him. 

Danny dipped and wove through the air like a darting fish. His fists flickered with green light, bursts shooting across the night sky. A baseline still thrummed, speakers still broadcasting a haunting melody. 

Ember’s laughing song crackled across an intercom system, fire trailing behind her like a comet’s tail as Danny chased her higher. A green burst pierced through the fire, moonlight shining for an instant through the empty space before bright blue light writhed to fill the gap. 

Blazing green eyes met and Ember’s fingers smashed down across her guitar’s strings. Danny was already leaping up, over the ghostly blades of sound to crash his fist across her cheek, other palm already open to blast her backward before the halo of flame could converge on him. 

The speakers below shrieked and popped, collapsing into static as Ember’s headphones and mic tumbled down to earth. Below them, a crowd of people shook their heads, days of foggy memories slugging together into confusion as the spell was broken. 

“This song and dance is getting old, Ember. Don’t you have any new material?” Danny gave the taunt with an exaggerated sigh, watching her powers start to wane without the crowd’s worship. 

“As if you would understand, dipstick.” She spat back, “As long as people can hear my music, they’re in my range of influence. My melody will ROCK the world!” 

“Maybe you should get some better tunes, clearly it’s not working out for you.” 

Danny threw up a shield against the blast of sound, teeth gritting against the vibrations still thrumming past it. 

He expected an angry quip back, mouth already open for a taunt about the slow response. He met her eyes across the field, words dying at her strange expression. Her fingers hovered hesitantly over the strings of her guitar, trailing up them with a buzzing zip. 

“You know… you might be right.”

“I’m right? Uh- I mean, of course I’m right! You should stop trying to take over the world Ember, it’s never going to work.” Danny lit his fists with green energy, wary of this new contemplative look about her. “I’ll stop you, like I always have.”

“Just brainwashing people hasn’t really worked, has it? You always seem to be there to break my spell.” She plucked a string and Danny winced under the sharp note. The air seemed to shiver around them. The crowd below was already filing away, Ember's ghostly backup band nowhere to be seen.

“My rhythm is off. The baseline is flat. Maybe you’re right; I need a new melody. Something catchy. Something more permanent.” Another string plucked, and goosebumps shivered up Danny’s arms. The vibrations didn’t fade, hanging in the air like reality itself was trembling. 

“Something… lethal?”

“Ember,” He started, “I’m warning you, back off now.” 

A sharp canine glinted, her green eyes thin-slit and feral as her smile stretched wider. 

“Do me a solid, space cadet, and remember this moment when I return. I’ll make sure to have some  _ killer _ riffs for you to try on for size.” 

The final string plucked, and reality  _ sheared. _

Ember leaned backward into the kaleidoscopic fissure, fiery hair snapping behind her. She’d fled before in dramatic swirls of ‘I’ll get you next time’ shouts, but this time felt too genuine. 

A promise, instead of a threat. 

Danny saw the vibrations slowing, saw the strange portal start to sag closed. 

Clamping a curse between his teeth, he leapt in after her. 

* * *

It was unlike any portal he had gone in before.

He was falling. 

The space warped around him, his skin feeling too tight and too loose all at once. Something bright and loud jolted through him, his cold heart frothing up to his throat like a shaken soda. He swallowed it down with a choke, clamping his hands over his mouth. He could see purple lightning sizzling across his skin like toothy worms, carving furrows into his arms. It seemed to come from everywhere. Like the portal itself was unraveling into threads of hungry energy. 

For a moment as he fell, Danny truly wondered if his body was going to be torn apart at the seams. 

Then, a familiar flash of light. 

The rings of his transformation swept over him. 

White hair changed to black, his skin bled out its ghostly pallor, and gravity pulled him downward. He sank into the relief of painless existence as the purple light retreated. 

He got one good look at a landscape of dramatic mountains, foggy valleys, and a blazing sunset throwing violet and neon orange clouds like wings over everything. Dark trees and white-foam rivers, and in the distance, something that might have been a thread of stairs winding up a rocky mountainside. 

He remembered he was really falling right about the time when a branch smacked his shoulder, sending him spinning into another, and another, until he hit the ground with a hollow thump and a deeply pained groan. 

Thank god for his sturdiness.

He could already feel the bruises blooming, the cold of his ice core rising up to sooth them reflexively. 

Danny managed to push himself to his knees. Pine needles clung to his shirt, and he could hear the crashing of plants as some animal or other fled from his sudden entrance into the world. 

It probably didn’t speak well on his baseline of normal to be  _ used  _ to dealing with the aftermath of falling a distance that might have killed someone else, but a few years fighting ghosts who knew exactly who he was and where he slept did wonders for that. 

Around him, there was trees. 

Lots and lots of trees. 

He brushed some pine needles out of his hair, staggering to his feet. His ghost sense was silent, but Ember couldn’t have gone far. He pulled on the pulse of cold, his absent hop turning into an awkward stumble as the anticipated weightlessness of his ghost form didn’t kick in. 

He looked down and tried to force the transformation to kickstart, dread pooling in his gut when he watched the light fizzle out in a staticky shower of sparks. 

The sun sank lower to the horizon. The sky shifted from a fiery rainbow of colors to the soft blues and purples of twilight. Faraway birds and insects raised their voices to sing. 

Somewhere, a creature howled. 

Danny turned around, finding nothing but the natural expanse of wilderness. 

Well, fuck. 


	2. Asking For Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our very good boys try to track down an evil spirit - POV Lan Sizhui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks who are new to the Módào Zǔshī fandom! - Read the translated comics, or watch the translated cartoon FIRST. The clans are helpfully color-coded, and you definitely want a visual reference to keep track of characters.  
> The novel is the complete version of the story, and is the ultimate source of canon that I am basing this on. The Netflix TV show “The Untamed” is very divergent from the original plot in the second half, due to Chinese censorship, but is still gorgeous and enjoyable to watch.

After the close shave at Mo Village, Lan Sizhui was relieved when HanGuang Jun decided to travel with them. 

They’d been sent out as junior cultivators to deal with what should have been a small issue involving walking corpses. Smelly and mildly aggressive if you got too close, but more alarming to normal people than actually dangerous. They were the type to shamble around, groaning uselessly unless puppeted by someone else. 

What they found had been much more dangerous - a ferocious ghost that killed four people in one night. 

When he had realized the danger of their situation, he’d tried his best to keep calm and organize the other junior cultivators into action. With the spirit-attraction flags snapping on the rooftops and the panicked muttering of the people at Mo manor, it had been difficult to keep his face from showing fear. Reading what a malicious spirit could do from a textbook and actually seeing it suck the life force out of someone were two very different things. 

Remembering the Mo matron’s flesh sinking in, skin drawing taut over bones and the writhing of her muscles as they shrank… it still drove a shiver to crawl up his spine. 

In the end, they had been saved, the ghost captured, and Lan Wangji let them rest for a night before inviting them to come to his next interest - the soul-stealer of Dafan Mountain. It was a few days out of the way, and a little further than the Gusu Lan Sect would normally travel without invitation. However, it was still close enough to Mo village that that their presence could be excused as ‘an opportunity presented itself’ 

When they reached the round mountain, minor clans from all areas had already gathered for the same reason. Even bigger names, like Jin Ling and Sect Leader Jiang Cheng appeared to join the hunt. He was surprised to see the young master Mo already here, and offered him a smile when their eyes met. The man certainly acted strangely, but the hint he’d given about the ferocious ghost being harbored in its victims left arm had probably saved them. Lan Jingyi had complained about being kicked, but when they were recounting the events to HanGuang Jun, his friend still mentioned the action resulted in accidentally protecting Lan Sizhui, so he’d forgive it.

Their elder was hard to read most days, but Lan Sizhui swore he saw amusement at Lan Jingyi’s grudging words.

Anyway. Back to the issue of Dafan mountain. 

A soul-stealing monster was certainly something fearsome, but he wasn’t sure why so many - including their own faraway sect - had been contacted for it. 

Lan Sizhui set the wondering aside, focusing instead on his current task. HanGuang Jun told the small pack of Lan Sect junior cultivators to search the mountain and track down any powerful spirits or beasts that could have stolen a soul from someone.

So far, all they’d found was a bunch of lost spirits. 

As the group of cultivators explored the many slopes of forest, weak lost ghosts lingered in every shadow, sighing and wailing and wandering. 

Harmless and distracting.

When Lan Jingyi grew tired of consulting his useless ‘Compass of Evil’ and tried to wave a spirit-attracting talisman to find a powerful spirit faster, he had nearly lost his footing with how many of the weak spirits appeared and crowded around him. They were translucent, intangible, but still possessing human faces and voices full of emotion. 

Lan Sizhui took pity on him and smudged the talisman’s writing so they would disperse. 

His friend sighed deeply, stuffing the talisman back into his robes, even as a few of the other disciples forced down grins and snickers. 

“Surely,” Lan Jingyi mourned, “We won’t have to search behind every tree. Surely something like this wouldn’t suddenly vanish under the inspection of so many cultivators.”

Lan Sizhui patted his shoulder encouragingly, turning to the rest of the small group with an idea.

“Since there are so many spirits here, they might be able to tell us where to head.”

A few of them brightened, realizing what he was saying.

“That’s a good idea.” “You brought an instrument, right?” “No, I’m no good at the qin language.” The snippets of softly spoken conversations flowed between the group, but Lan Sizhui was already pulling a Guqin out of his Qiankun Pouch.

Truly, the little bags had the best sort of enchantment on them. Being able to store more than they appeared, one could bring survival tools, changes of clothes and even preserved food out on long-term journeys. Some cultivators altered the sleeves of their robes with the same seals, being able to pull entire cleavers out from their sleeves in the heat of battle. 

Several of them, when the topic came up during lessons, theorized that’s how HanGuang Jun must take his beautiful guqin out into the long night-hunts to face fearsome monsters. 

Lan JinYi triumphantly won several bets a few days ago when their elder appeared with the famous stringed instrument simply wrapped in oilcloth and strapped to his back. 

“I need to concentrate in order to get the notes right - I’m still practicing.” Lan Sizhui warned his peers, smiling softly when they nodded agreement. Most of them were also trying to learn the language of melodies, and understood how difficult it was to be accurate enough for communication. 

He sat on a patch of moss, crossing his legs and laid the instrument across his lap. The dark wood shone with a subtle grain of amber when dappled light shone through the leaves above. The first few notes were plucked to test the strings, meaningless and warping slightly as Lan Sizhui adjusted the tension.

Between humidity and altitude changes, and constantly being carried around in a pouch, it was shockingly good at maintaining its own tuning. Then again, it had been created by the Lan Sect. Their founder had been a musician, and they were well known for it. 

He took a slow breath to center himself, fingers resting gently on the strings.

“What should I ask?” He murmured to the air, fingers twitching as he recounted the many alterations to tone and pitch that created words and meanings. 

He began the introduction to Inquiry, muscles remembering hundreds of times he’d played these notes in practice. 

“Do they know about stolen souls?”

A good question. He finished the introduction that called listening spirits to their location. He could already feel the rise in spiritual energy around them, but focused on his playing. 

He plucked the notes, letting them hang in the air and lifted his hands from the strings. A little mote of light drew down from the cloud of wandering spirits that had turned to listen. It floated down to the guqin and plucked two notes slowly. 

_Yes, this one does._

“Where can we find the one who stole them?” 

Lan Jingyi’s question was a bit nuanced, and he struggled for a moment, trying to remember how to order the notes for that. 

“Ah- Where are they?” His friend changed the question, and Lan Sizhui thankfully played. More vague, but still applicable. Whether they tracked down the stolen souls or the one who stole them, both would work. 

But when he finished playing, the notes hung unanswered. 

He waited a few beats longer, chewing on his lip anxiously as his peers shifted around him. 

“If they answer, they’re truthful, but I can’t force them to answer.” He murmured, setting his palms down on the strings in preparation to play the closing chords to disperse the spirits. 

Before he could start, his friend spoke once more with a question. 

“In which direction is the strongest spirit on this mountain?

The spirits replied to his melody this time, directing them to the east.

Lan Sizhui finished Inquiry and tucked his guqin away, shaking out his white robes carefully. Lan Jichen punched up into the sky with determination. 

“Alright! Eastward it is!” 

And the group of them moved on. 

* * *

The wind was warm, and the sound of it through the trees nearly masked their many footsteps. They only traveled for a single stick of incense* when Lan Jingyi tugged on the edge of his sleeve to get his attention. 

“Listen.” He murmured, voice uncharacteristically quiet. His face was serious, eyes scanning the trees around him. 

Lan Jingyi was a loud, energetic, confident boy. He tended to be a bit childish and wore his heart openly. However, he was also surprisingly perceptive about certain things. The subtle shifts of emotion in a tense room. The little changes in spiritual energy that heralded disaster. 

Lan Sizhui once teased him with the idea of having been a guardian spirit-dog in his past life. Why else could he sniff out ghosts and run barking after them with such glee?

While it was meant in jest, his friend’s sensitivity to this kind of thing was terribly useful on a night hunt. (Though it could be problematic when dealing with strangers - Lan Jingyi tended to get irritable when he couldn’t read people well) The other junior disciples were already unsheathing their swords, a few pulling out protective talismans. Lan Sizhui did the same, noticing at the same time his friend spelled it out-

“The wandering ghosts are gone.”

It was too quiet. 

Even bird calls were silenced, appearing only in the far distance. 

The others fell into a guard formation with the ease of practice, each of them keeping an eye on the trees, remembering to look up as well. Plenty of malicious creatures liked to hang in trees and drop down from above. 

They continued eastward for a few more minutes, then Lan Jingyi hissed “There!” And took off in pursuit of something trying to flee. He saw only a splash of white and red vanishing into the trees, his friend’s flutter of white on its heels. 

A spirit-dog indeed. 

Lan Sizhui ran to catch up, hearing only the crashing of his own friend through the underbrush. The others kept pace behind him, weaving through the trees as best they could.

He felt a jolt of fear when he realized he couldn’t hear his friend running anymore, and sprinted ahead. 

And stumbled out into the bright clearing of a road. 

He nearly charged off into the forest on the other side, managing to stop himself as the other boys piled out, blinking in the harsh sunlight. 

Lan Jingyi stood in the middle of the road a few paces down, looking this way and that in confusion. His Compass of Evil was in his hand again. Lan Sizhui approached him and asked, 

“Lost it?”

His friend nodded, sheathing his sword with a sigh. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll pick up a sign of it again. What did it look like?”

The group of them gathered together, putting their robes and hair back in order, their swords away. 

“It was similar to a person, about my size. I think it was a type of spirit, not a beast, because it kept passing through trees instead of going around them. I fell behind, and lost it at the road. My compass worked, though,” he added thoughtfully. “Just for a moment.” 

They followed the road back to the village, asking questions around town before winding back up to the temple in the mountain. 

Lan Jingyi kept checking back with his compass, staring off toward the borders of the forest when its needle twitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) a single stick of incense: About 30-45 minutes.


	3. Food and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilderness survival sucks ass, just so you know.

The sun set on Danny’s first day in this new world. The warmth of the wind was pleasant, and biting insects stopped bothering him after his accident, so most environmental issues with sleeping outside were already averted. 

He found a patch of grass in a clearing that he could see the sky through, and settled down to take a nap. Time and rest tended to fix the issues when his transformation fizzled out. Some stressors zapped his powers, he knew that. 

Nothing to be worried about. 

Right? 

He dozed off to the faraway sound of birds and woke up later to the sound of something walking through the forest nearby. 

Danny yawned, wiggling a little to find a comfier spot in the grass. He looked up at the stars closing his eyes with a slow smile. 

Then, his eyes snapped open again. 

The stars. 

He jolted up. Danny leapt to his feet, scouted the nearest trees and climbed one as high as he could. 

Crested at the top of the forest, Danny looked up at the blaze of stars, absent of light pollution. The stars were… 

All wrong. 

He didn’t recognize any of them. 

There’s a slow, dawning fear one realizes when they look at the something that is supposed to be solid and unending and understand that its _not right._ Something primal, deep in the instincts of humans that rises up when eclipses darken the sun, and sinkholes collapse, and the world suddenly shifts in a way that breaks the essential _truth_ of how we live. 

It wasn’t even that they were in the wrong places in the sky, he KNEW what the sky ought to look like from any hemisphere and latitude. He loved astronomy, and seeing Orion’s Belt and the Little Dipper’s bright handle settled him when he had nightmares and couldn’t sleep. 

But they _weren’t there._

Danny turned away from the sky, drawing his hands over his face slowly, pressing it into his knees. 

Ember’s rift hadn’t just been to another location on earth. 

It was another dimension entirely. 

Somewhere large enough to have stars, and a sunset, and rolling landscapes of foggy mountains, and weather patterns. Too complex for a ghost’s lair, he’d actually been convinced he’d been on Earth. 

Danny watched the stars turn overhead. 

Watched them fade to blue as the sun rose. 

Ember had long since vanished, and Danny had lost hope of catching up the moment he realized he couldn’t fly.

He couldn’t recognize any of the wild plants, and didn’t have a knife with him to try and hunt an animal. He could craft one, he supposed, but it would be more useful to find a human settlement. 

If one existed. 

He hiked through the jungle, taking note of the way his ghost sense flickered to life on occasion. He was on guard, but never attacked outright. Things seemed too draw near enough to scout him out, then left him be. 

That afternoon, it rained. 

That was too mild of a description. 

It _Rained._

The roar of water striking the earth was deafening, rivulets streaming down in tiny rivers over everything with a flat surface to hold the drops. Danny took advantage of the free water, drinking as much as he could in the few minutes that the deluge lasted. 

Then, the clouds passed. He watched the dark rainfall move like a living thing to the next mountain over, and suddenly the sun shone again on him. 

His shoes squelched with mud and water, hunger grumbling in his stomach. He’d not eaten dinner the previous night, too hung up dealing with Ember. It had been a day, with nothing but water. 

That was fine.

He would be fine. 

Surely there was a person living around here somewhere. 

He tried climbing a tree, but only saw more mountains, rolling treetops sprawling out to the horizon. 

His path took him across the mountain’s ridge, a worn footpath giving him hope to encounter humans. Or deer. Hopefully something edible. The sun began to set again, and in the distance he saw hope. 

On the base of the mountain, he saw trails of smoke rising up into the sky. The flickering lights of fire, and the distinctive yellow-and-brown of thatched roofs. Fear he didn’t realize he was holding suddenly collapsed off his shoulders, and Danny started hiking down the slope with renewed energy. 

He hiked through the night, well, most of the night.

He stopped for a rest and a break to soak his feet in a small river. He’d gotten fairly athletic fighting ghosts for two years, but climbing a mountain in human form was another monster entirely. He could already feel a sunburn blooming on the back of his neck and forearms, cheek probably pinked as well. 

When he finally arrived in the town he walked past the late lamps and approached the first place that looked vaguely like an inn. Exhausted, he approached the counter and asked “How much for a room for the rest of the night?” 

The man at the counter only gave him an acidic glare. 

Danny sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’d even left his wallet at home, of course he did. 

“I can work, I can work as your employee and do whatever chores you need done tomorrow morning, I just really need a place to crash. Even if it’s a couch in the corner is-“

The innkeeper interrupted him by slapping the counter, gesturing out the door with a glare. He spat something in a language Danny didn’t understand, and it took his tired brain several seconds to realize ‘ _Oh. That sounds like Chinese. I don’t know any Chinese.”_

“Sorry.” He muttered, stepping away and shuffling back toward the door. 

Now that he was looking at it, all the banners and signs over shops were written in Kanji… er- wait, what was the Chinese word for the characters? They had their own language, right? He couldn’t remember. 

He stood out under the stars again, exhaustion scraping against his thoughts, muddying cohesive logic. 

He was still in a town. That was good. Safety from predators. Food and water. 

His stomach growled. 

Food tomorrow. 

Sleep now. 

Danny found a stable, his sleepy brain connecting ‘grass looks soft’ to hay and straw, shuffling him toward it. A man cut in front of him before he could enter, sharp words bitten out as a finger jabbed his chest. On his cheek was a small tattoo* of something that had been blurred to a smudge with time. 

Danny shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. A small part of him wanted to give up and cry, too exhausted to process frustration in in a productive way. 

“I’m really sorry, I don’t know how to talk to you.” 

He pressed his palms together, miming sleeping under the side of his head, trying to gesture toward the straw and give the ‘please!’ Hand press and offer pleading eyes all at the same time. 

“I just want to sleep.” 

A word Danny didn’t recognize, but the man had backed off a little, regarding him warily. 

“Yes, sleep!” 

Danny mimed sleeping again, faking a small snore, and pointed again to the fresh hay stacked off to the side. 

The man jerked a small nod and stood aside, letting the teen gingerly sit and lean into the pile with a sigh. He stood over Danny for a moment, then picked up a broom and shook it with a few words. 

Having no clue what was being said, Danny nodded along. Seeming satisfied, the man nodded with a sharp exhale, set the broom back and left him alone. Danny dropped into sleep like a rock. 

* * *

Someone kicked him awake. 

Danny jerked to with a small noise of surprise and a flail, twitching when something was thrown across his lap. 

A broom. 

The man from the night before had his own pitchfork, pointing to the hay pile, then to the barn and across the front of the stable’s entranceway. 

“Oh, I need to sweep. Okay. I can do that.” 

Danny stood, watching the man and making a few sweeps with the broom. Satisfied when the man grunted his approval, Danny went to work sweeping clean the…. dirt. 

Maybe the guy just wanted him to clear the leaves? 

He focused on the bits of straw that floated his way as the man spread it to stalls, pushing dried leaves out onto the road. After some pointing he tidied up the isle as well. 

When the man was content with his work and took back the broom, Danny wandered off to find food and water. 

Plenty of merchants in the small town, but he had no money. He found a well, but wariness about catching cholera or something held him back from trying it. The locals might be used to the bugs out here, but Danny’s poor immune system grew up in a house that was regularly sterilized and water that went through osmosis filtration. 

He’d probably die from a stomach bug, here. 

That is, if it was really a different universe with the same sort of disease rules and not just like… magic diseases or something. He didn’t know. 

Well-rested at last, Danny started to notice the looks being thrown his way. He made sure to brush all the straw dust out of his hair and straightened his clothes, but they still shot nasty looks his way. He definitely looked like a foreigner. 

Maybe they weren’t used to that, here?

He sighed, trying his luck with a few more people in the small marketplace. He tried bowing, pleading. He tried miming out what he could give them. 

The folks started to ignore him, treating him like an annoying bug. 

Around mid-morning, Danny gave up and headed out to the gate. When he was hiking, he had passed some streams along the way. The plan was to find another stream and try to catch some crawfish or whatever got close enough to grab. If anything came near enough. 

Most small animals, like insects, tended to avoid him. 

A sign that he could not read pointed down the path with a long string of symbols.. A sign with one two kanji. 

Danny started off down that path. 

No luck with the crawfish. Even overturning rocks did no good. 

He started developing a headache. 

He continued to travel, following the road for the most part. There was a road at all, so there must by other humans. 

Along the way, a passing man shouted, gesturing to his body and back to him with jabs of his cane.

Speaking of which, he did notice everyone seemed to be wearing some sort of robe. Only a few wore a tunic-like shirt, but everyone eyed his t-shirt and jeans with suspicion. 

Well, it’s not like he was going to steal someone else’s laundry, but his fashion probably didn’t help him fit either. 

He found some wild onions just off the path and ate most of them. He felt a bit sick, heartburn bubbling up, but it was better than nothing. His second day with no food, hiking all the time. He needed energy. 

His heartburn and headache throbbed in time with each other. 

The nausea hit all at once, and he emptied his stomach into the weeds.

Disgusting. 

What a waste. 

He plodded on, sticking to the shadows of overhanging branches as the sun blazed overhead. His lips felt chapped, like they’d split if he smiled. 

He should have stolen some food and water from someone. 

Next river, he’d just drink the fucking water. Parasites or no. 

He passed what looked like a stone graveyard, and an old man sweeping leaves off a large stone structure, bleached white by sun and time. 

Something about the area felt energizing. Like he wasn’t so hungry and tired. 

It was nice. 

He hung around for a long time, relaxing in the shade to soak it in. The sun moved in the sky, stabbing him in the eyes when he next opened them. Danny squinted, picking himself up. The old man with the broom had vanished. 

With no new village within eyeshot, Danny headed into the jungle to keep to the shade. High noon was no time for someone with his complexion to be hiking a trail. 

After walking for a while up the side of yet another mountain ( _how many of these fucking things WERE there?_ ), he paused to listen. 

A soothing melody floated through the trees, and Danny relaxed into it again. Something about the tune felt familiar. Safe. He felt his steps wandering in that direction, when gentle words plinked through the strings. 

“ _Do you know about stolen souls?_ ” 

Danny opened his eyes, not sure when he had closed them. Stolen souls? No, he didn’t know anything about that. Who was asking? That sounded frightening. 

“ _Where are they?”_ Clearly, whoever was talking through the music wasn’t talking to him. Still, the sounds were nice. 

“ _In which direction is the strongest spirit on this mountain?”_

So the voice knew about ghosts, then. Neat. 

He listened to the last of the music as it faded into silence, relaxing where he’d decided to lean against a tree. He still needed to climb said tree to get a good look at the landscape, but he was feeling a bit too tired and hungry to go through the effort. 

Something nearby rustled. 

He turned his head toward it. 

A twig snapped, and he realized those were the sounds of people walking. 

Nope, he didn’t want another confrontation. Nope nope nope. Tired of glares. 

Danny pushed off the tree to try and sneak away, but suddenly one of the people was rushing toward him! 

He got a glimpse of white robes and a silver blade pointed in his direction and bolted. 

Whoever it was decided to chase him, and Danny’s spike of adrenaline let him flicker intangible, easing the way through the thick jungle and quickly losing his pursuer. He exited to the road that led back into town, leaping into the brush on the other side and crouching down invisibly. The power trembled in his chest, barely holding on. 

He heard the other people find the road, speak for a moment, then start walking back toward the city. Danny held a hand to his chest, heart pounding. 

Why the hell was a pack of teenagers carrying around SWORDS of all things?! Who sprinted through the jungle with a naked blade?! 

A wave of exhaustion hit him, and he sank a little deeper into the weeds, blinking back spots. Three days. Four days? He’d lost count. He needed food and water. 

Even if he had to steal it. 

Feeling the resolve of his actions, Danny pushed himself to his feet, stumbled out onto the road and shook his head to try to clear the floaty feeling that probably came from low blood sugar. His headache throbbed. Maybe dehydration. 

Something snorted behind him. 

He froze. 

Danny turned slowly, not quite comprehending what he was seeing. A donkey, sure. He knew what a donkey was. But the man in black had his face painted garishly white, with streaky red blotches around his eyes like a clown. 

“Are you okay?” The man asked. 

Danny shook his head, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to one of them as a sharp headache bloomed between his temples. The light feeling in his head only increased, joining with a static buzzing in his ear as the faraway sound of birdsong faded away. 

“Hey!” He heard the man shout and vaguely noticed his expression had changed from surprise to alarm behind the thick makeup. Beyond that, he wasn’t sure what happened, 

* * *

When he woke, Danny’s head was still throbbing. 

He kept his eyes tightly shut, hunching his shoulders and twisting his neck to see if a change in position would help any. 

“You’re awake!” A happy voice spoke from across the room, footsteps scuffing, and something clinked softly near his head. Something gently tapped his forehead and he flinched slightly, peeking one eye open. 

Thankfully, the bench he’d been laid across was in the shade of a building’s overhanging roof. He could hear the sounds of humans bartering, still talking in that maybe-Chinese language. 

“Here, drink this. You look super dehydrated.” The man with the stranger makeup hovered his hands as Danny pushed himself up to sit - spotting for weakness that would need to be caught. When Danny didn’t keel over, he offered a small cup of a pale green liquid. A familiar smell wafted through the steam, and Danny gratefully accepted the tea, sucking it down despite the scorch to his tongue. Still hot. 

“Wow, you must be really thirsty, haha. Here, the kettle’s full, I grabbed some food while you were sleeping. The rice went cold already, but it should still be good.” 

He exhaled, accepting the second cup as his brain slowly caught up to what the man was saying. 

And then realized he was speaking English. 

Danny jolted, “You can understand me! I can understand you!” 

The man nodded, looking a bit amused. The red blobs of color around his eyes were still distracting. 

“Yeah, that’s what happens when we use our words.” 

“No, I mean-“ Danny stopped himself at the loud sound of his stomach growling, looking down at his tea. The man put a huge leaf piled high white rice in his lap, slipping a pair of bamboo chopsticks into his fingers. 

“There you go! Eat up! As long as you keep drinking, you should be right as rain pretty soon. Now that you’re taken care of, I’ve got to head out. People to avoid, evil spirits to charm - maybe the other way around? Who knows! Take care, kid. No need to pay me back for the food and tea, just drop the kettle off inside the building behind you. You should be grateful, I’m pretty broke at this point.” The man said the last bit as he ambled out into the crowd on the main road. 

Danny juggled the rice and tea for a moment, gulping down the liquid before cramming a mouthful in his face, chewing furiously. Food was important, but that man could understand him! He could communicate! 

He had to stop several times to gulp down more tea as the rice caught in his throat, stomach protesting from suddenly being so full. The headache was quickly fading, thank goodness. 

But he couldn’t lose that guy in the crowd! 

Danny finished the rice as quick as he could, carefully setting it to the side with the chopsticks. He had no idea where to put them. The Kettle, too, just sat on the bench next to him. It looked nice. Clay ceramic. 

He stood up, taking two steps toward the road as his stomach sloshed. Groaning to himself, he picked up the still-warm kettle, dumping the last of it into the cup and chugging it as fast as he could. He ignored the stares in his direction, setting the kettle and the little clay cup on a chair just outside the building he'd been resting next to. Then, out onto the road and into still-blinding sunlight. 

He spotted the donkey and the man’s tall ponytail swishing alongside it, and shoved past some folks to head toward them.

“Sir!” He called out, but the man ignored him. 

Danny managed to run up beside the donkey, catching the man’s eye over its back. 

He frowned at Danny, waving the donkey’s reins a little in a small ‘shoo’ gesture.

“I’m not a charity case, you know. I only helped because you passed out on my feet.”

“I know! Thankyouverymuch!” Danny bowed low, nearly bonking his head on the donky’s side before jerking back upright. He didn’t know what to do with his arms, so he held him at his sides. The man seemed surprised, and quickly recovered with a small laugh. 

“Alright then, you’re welcome. Happy to see you doing well. Run along, then, go find your guardians.” 

“You’re the only one who can understand me, sir.” Polite, polite. Politeness got people food and attention. He’d observed that much, at least, from the many people he tried to emulate while failing to speak with merchants. A lot of bows. The lower they were, they more respectful they seemed. 

“I’m sure there are other folks who would lend a hand to a starving kid on the road-“

“-I mean-” Danny interrupted, bowing again when he realized that was probably super rude. “I mean you’re literally the only one who understands when I talk, and I can’t understand the words of anyone else. Everything sounds like nonsense. You’re the first person who seems to talk like normal.” He raised his head, adding “Sir.” As an afterthought. 

The man gave him an odd look, pulling his donkey to the side of the street. 

“You’re being serious.” 

“Yessir.” 

The man hummed, turning to a merchant stall next to him. 

“This madam, ask to buy some cabbage from her.” 

Danny turned to the woman at the stall, sidestepping around the donkey so he could meet her eyes. 

“Ma’am, I’d like to buy a cabbage, please.” 

The woman’s face twisted, eyes looking him up and down before she scoffed, saying something rude to him with a sharp gesture. She turned to the man, gesturing between them, and made that same ‘get out of here’ motion with the folding fan in her hand. 

The man looked thoughtfully between them, and Danny waited for his verdict, following as he and the donkey started walking up the road again. 

“Why is your hair cut like that, anyway? Did you escape from prison*?” 

Danny blinked in confusion, glancing up at the gates as they left the little village. He rubbed the back of his head, noting that his usual close trim was getting a bit scruffy. 

“Uh, I haven’t gotten it cut in a while, I guess? I’ve never-“ He almost said ‘never been to prison’ but that was a lie. Was it though? Did ghost-prison under unjust laws even count? He did stage a breakout and a prison riot, so maybe it did in the ways that mattered. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

The man made another curious noise. 

“She asked after your hair. It’s an… unusual style. Your clothes, too, are strange.” 

Danny looked down, plucking at his dirty tee shirt. He shrugged awkwardly. 

“I don’t have anything else to wear.” 

“And you haven’t been able to understand _Anyone Else?_ ” 

Danny shook his head, then paused. 

“Well, there was music in the forest.” He said slowly “It was like… the music itself was speaking. It was weird.” 

“What did it sound like? What kind of instrument?”

“Uh… strings, probably? I’m not great with instruments. Like plucking at a guitar, or a ukulele with your fingertips instead of strumming across.” He mimed the motion with an air guitar. 

“I don’t know either of those instruments, but I do know who can use strings to talk with their music. You probably heard someone from the Lan sect playing. You could understand it?” 

Danny nodded, “It was really calming, and it asked a couple of questions. Then these teenagers with swords started chasing after me, so I ran away, but then I fainted, and that’s when you found me. Who lets teenagers run around with swords?!” He complained, waving his hands emphatically, before remembering he was supposed to be polite. “Oh, shoot, sorry. Sir.” 

The man waved his hand as if to clear the air.   
  


"It's a dangerous world out there. I'm surprised you don't have a sword." 

Danny frowned, flexing his hands. He'd managed to go intangible, before. Maybe he'd be able to get in an ecto-blast if in a pinch? He still felt weak, despite the food. He should be resting, but the lure of having someone to _talk_ to was too strong. Without language, what hope did he have of getting real help? 

"By the way," the man started, “What’s your opinion on Wei Ying?” 

“Sorry, I’ve never heard of him.” 

“...... _ah_?” 

“Should I have?”

“No, no, that’s fine. What about the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian?” 

Danny stared blankly at the road ahead of him. The first and the last guy had the same first names. 

“Are those… the same people?” 

The man shrugged, staring at Danny across the donkey. 

"Sir?" He asked, not sure if he'd somehow ruined his welcome. The man sighed dramatically, sagging his whole body into it like an actor. 

"Seriously, you can't keep calling me ‘Sir’ this and ‘sir’ that. It makes me feel old and stuffy. You can call me Mo Xuanyu.” The man - Mo Xuanyu - laughed obnoxiously, adding “Of course, you can call me “Lord Mo” if you want!” 

The donkey snorted derisively. 

“My name’s Danny. Nice to meet you, Lord Mo." 

The man - Mo Xuanyu quickly shook his hands in front of him. 

"No, no, no, that sounds awful in your mouth. Just my name! Just my name is fine!" 

"Mo?" 

" _Mo Xuanyu!_ " 

"I dunno, Lord Mo sounds nicer than your full name."

"I will shove you off a cliff, brat." The indignant, huffy expression behind layers of powder was something he couldn't take seriously. 

"Nice to meet you, Mo-Xuanyu. My name's Danny." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Tattoos were applied to prisoners both as a way to mark them as a criminal and sometimes more significantly - as punishment by permanently harming their skin. Prisoners were also punished by having their hair shorn off and left to grow wild. SHORT hair was considered barbaric or anti-social, or someone who had been a prisoner. So… Danny with his short and messy hair likely looks like an aggressive hooligan ex-con to anyone with eyes. 
> 
> People around this time period in southern China kept their hair long deliberately. The general idea was that your hair and skin was granted to you by your parents, passed down from your ancestors, and deliberately harming your body was akin to destroying a precious gift and that connection to them, and was a reason for serious offense. (They trimmed the tips to keep split ends down, but waist-length or longer hair was normal.)  
> Stories about Emperors around the Tang Dynasty ritualistically cutting off a few hairs to offer to the gods in sacrifice wasn’t just a symbolic gesture - he was literally, significantly harming himself in front of everyone. 
> 
> Anyway, Danny should have worn a hat.


	4. A Cry For Help

Danny and the now-introduced Mo Xuanyu continued to walk for a few minutes in companiable silence before Danny spoke up again. 

“So, where are you headed?” 

Mo Xuanyu bilked, apparently breaking from deep thought. 

“Hm? Oh, The Goddess Temple at the base of Dafan mountain. Cultivators in the area have been searching for something stealing souls, and I think that’s where it originated. We should hurry, I don’t want someone getting there before us and doing something foolish.” 

Danny nodded in agreement, trying to help push the donkey along a bit faster. It brayed, jogged a few steps, and fell back into a stubborn walk. From Mo Xuanyu’s resigned expression, this was normal. Then, his face changed slightly. He gave Danny an intense sort of stare, leaning over the back of the animal. Danny leaned back a little. 

“Is something on my face?” 

Mo Xuanyu didn’t respond, straightening and placing a knuckle on his chin in thought. 

“No, nothing like that…” He responded vaguely, then glanced at Danny through the corners of his eyes. 

“The temple is a bit further up, and I don’t think Apple would be able to walk there in time for me to arrive.” 

Danny frowned, puzzling over the problem with his hand on the animal’s warm back. 

Mo Xuanyu huffed a small laugh after a moment, smiling at him when he looked up. 

“Look, there’s a clear spot next to the road. How about you stay with Apple and let him graze for a bit, and I’ll run ahead to meet the others.” 

Danny felt a flash of alarm, jogging a few steps ahead so he could turn and watch the man’s amused expression. 

“You promise to come back, though? You’re not just running off?” 

“Of course I’ll come back. You’ll have my precious Apple, after all. I can’t just leave him with a stranger.” 

Danny fumbled a bit when he was handed the reins, but looped it around his hand for a secure grip quickly. 

“Now, don’t let him wander off.” 

“Right!” 

“Stay at this spot.” 

“Right.” 

Mo Xuanyu hummed, watching him for a long moment with hands on his hips. Danny clutched the reins tighter, trying to radiate ‘Trustworthiness.’ 

“Alright, I’ll see you both in a bit. I don’t know how long this will take, but I should be back before nightfall.” 

Danny nodded. Mo Xuanyu gave a small wave and jogged down the road, ponytail bouncing behind him. Despite the garish appearance of his face, the man seemed nice. 

He glanced up at the sun, measuring it to be about mid-afternoon. Sunset wouldn’t be for several hours yet. He tugged the reins gently, leading the amicable donkey toward a more shaded patch of grass. 

“I guess it’s just you and me, buddy.” 

The donkey flicked one of its big ears. 

Danny sat down, kicking his feet out to watch his new charge tear away at the grass. 

—-

Hardly an hour could have passed, when he heard the sounds of shouts and screams from down the road. Danny sat up from where he’d been poking at a trail of ants, clambering to his feet. 

Several men in robes sprinted past, their faces terrified. Their sheathed swords glinted in the afternoon sun, shoes kicking up hot dust. 

More yells in the distance, and he could hear people racing through the forest behind him. Fleeing something. 

Danny tugged Apple’s reins, pulling the donkey closer to the edge of the road to see what was coming. He didn’t really notice anything in particular - just a long road.

More yelling - this time from the forest.

“Whatever it is probably won’t attack us, right?” He murmured, scratching the donkey’s neck. He laughed when it leaned heavily against him, and used both hands to keep scratching the same spot. 

His cold core shivered, and his next exhale was full of frost. 

His ghost sense. 

“Why are you blindly worshipping him?!” He heard Mo Xuanyu yell from the forest, and the sound of many feet getting closer. He heard a few snippets about eating, and tasting something new. Danny felt his skin grow colder. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. 

“Please be safe here!” He whispered to Apple, tying the donkey’s reins to a sturdy sapling at the edge of the clearing. “I’ll be right back!” 

Danny slipped into the woods, relieved when he was able to summon an ecto-bolt to his hand. The green light flickered away after a moment, but he could still feel its power humming in his hands. Still not enough for a full transformation, but a little of his energy had returned. 

He slipped into invisibility, sighing in relief when it clung to him without issue. He followed the sounds of yelling, trying not to make much noise himself. 

A flash of yellow, and Danny hid himself behind a tree. He was invisible anyway, but the tree gave a feeling of safety. 

A teenager his own age was facing away from him. Three arrows were drawn from a bamboo quiver on his back, one nocked with the others dangling from his fingertips. Something was crashing through the underbrush. 

Danny watched as the boy quickly fired three arrows in succession, listened to the clanging of metal on stone. His ghost sense was still trembling in his chest pinging off something nearby. 

He edged away from the tree, but darted back behind it when his foot snapped a twig and the boy turned toward him. As one, the two of them suddenly flinched, cupping their hands to their ears. 

While others just heard a roughly-hewn flute shrilly screeching, Danny felt it deeper. Something _Called._

That noise was like the long yell of a kitten, or the chirping shriek of a baby alligator in danger. Something saying _‘Please come! Please fight to protect me!_ ’ 

The sound felt like it tugged the very blood in his veins, 

Without thinking, he rushed past the boy to find the source of the noise. 

Like all of his higher thought was muffled - no, not suppressed in any way, just directed, _forced_ into this new directive - Danny ( _Phantom_ ) analyzed the scene with a glance. 

Mo Xuanyu on the flute, several teens, a handful of men, all of them wielding swords. 

A massive, moving statue of a woman whose mouth and chest and hands were dripping with blood and viscera. 

_The Enemy._

Danny could vaguely hear the sound of chains, and vaguely noticed the bloody statue pausing to look around, but he was already sprinting across the forest floor between the strangers with swords. His feet felt lighter, direction and intent and _protect these humans_ lending power that he didn’t know he had. 

His hand lit up with green energy as he approached the rock-formed leg.

Phantom _punched._


	5. Sprites and Spirits

Wei Wuxian raised a flute to his lips for the first time since his reawakening, knowing full well the suspicion it would cast on himself.

He excused his behaviors mentally, and figured he could tell anyone who asked that he only emulated the Yiling Patriarch. Surely others had tried to emulate his flute-playing cultivation after he died. Before that happened, people had been pretending to be his students in the street, hawking knock-off wares. 

Flute-playing and demonic cultivation alone couldn’t reveal him. 

The soul-eating goddess statue turned toward him as his spiritual energy was cast up to the heavens on shrill notes, and he called desperately for any resentful spirit within earshot. 

Junior cultivators shouldn’t be anywhere near this level of danger, and no one else was able to stop her.

It didn’t matter what he summoned. 

As long as it was strong enough. As long as its killing intent was sharp enough, so that it could rip the soul-eating goddess to pieces before she could reach the children. 

Lan Jingyi complained of his poor playing, apparently overlooking that it was impressive the quickly-hacked up segment of bamboo played any notes at all. The clarity of sound didn’t matter - only that it carried his wish. 

Something in the distance clanked. The rattle of metal approaching. 

Then, the goddess statue staggered, and his flute exhaled a surprised screech alongside his own stuttered breath. He lowered his flute, shocked to see the statue on one knee, face distorted in fury as a green spirit-light bounced around her. It withdrew for a moment, then struck again, piercing through one of her arms so roughly that the rock shattered apart. Stone fell and ground together loudly, nearly drowning out the still-approaching sound of metal. 

Wei Wuxian lowered his instrument, not sure what to make of the vicious sprite. He’d only seen the little balls of light do things like gather around talismans like moths, or answer questions during Inquiry. They were the most harmless, least-resentful type of spirit manifestation he could think of. 

But here one was, apparently taking down a goddess fueled by hundreds of years of worship, fully powered by eating souls and flesh. 

Finished dismantling her other leg, the little sprite retreated a bit, slower than its previous frantic zipping-around. 

The goddess statue saw the chance and lunged at it - swept her hand fast enough to impact the little thing. 

It winked out, vanishing, and he didn’t imagine the dismayed gasp of Lan Sizhui behind him. 

Then:

“It’s the Ghost General! It’s Wen Ning!” 

Wei Wuxian nearly dropped his flute. 

He fumbled it back up to his mouth, quickly directing his old friend (he was supposed to be dead! They scattered his ashes!) to attack the hobbled goddess statue. He thought he saw a tiny flicker of green out of the corner of his eye, but it vanished again before he could confirm the ferocious sprite had survived. 

Wen Ning smashed the goddess’s lowered head, breaking a chunk off of her forehead. His next blow glanced off her shoulder. Nothing in his face changed, as if his body had been drained of all emotion. 

Wei Wuxian noticed that his friend did not seem to be conscious, moving only when directed by his flute. The earnest, shy hope and stubborn determination was absent from the corpse’s normally soft features. He was acting like a puppet. 

Wen Ning endured a wild blow from her remaining stone hand, raising his hands to attack back, when the goddess suddenly collapsed onto her face. 

In the same moment, stone burst out of her back, a pure white orb floating between two green orbs. The goddess’s core shone like moonlight on the snow, emitting a distressed hum when the green orbs pressed in closer. 

“ _Drop it!”_ Wei Wuxian quickly trilled the order, thankful when the sprites dropped the core to plink down into the leaflitter. Handled carefully, the core could still restore the souls of the humans she’d sucked them from. That chance would be gone if anything happened to it. 

Already, the other cultivators had circled Wen Ning, facing their swords at him. 

“The Yiling Patriarch isn’t here right now! Attack!” 

Too many things were happening at once!

Wei Wuxian turned his melody back to Wen Ning, trying to encourage his blank friend to defend himself before he could really die under those swords. 

A flurry of chains, and the shouts of men being thrown back, and he knew he’d been too harsh with the notes, too frazzled. He needed to calm down. He needed to center himself. 

Wei Wuxian drew a slow breath, easing into a gentler song. The melody was the first to come to mind - something gentle and familiar. Something safe and protective. 

The two green sprites started drifting toward him, and their nearness reminded him that it was better to remove the resentful spirits from humans than let them linger around like this. He trilled a scolding _‘Leave_!’, and Wen Ning fled into the forest.

The vicious sprites vanished. 

Not a moment too soon. 

Accompanied by the chilly smell of sandalwood and amber-glass eyes, Wei Wuxian endured the intense, cold stare of Lan Wangji stepping out of the bamboo. 

* * *

**POV CHANGE: DANNY**

* * *

Danny found Apple in the place he expected, and collapsed in the grass next to the donkey’s feet. 

Exhausted again. Now with fresh bruises to match. Rock hands hit hard. 

He threw an arm over his eyes, scrunching them against the headache starting to build once more. Let the donkey snuffle his hair, lipping at his elbow. 

“I’m not grass.” He mumbled, taking a deep breath to try to calm his racing heart. 

He could still remember everything clearly. It wasn’t like Freakshow’s staff, where Danny broke out of the control with his mind fogged and memories wobbling in and out of focus. He knew what he had been doing the entire time, 

It felt like the music called for him to do something that was already in his nature to do, and then helped him do it. He'd felt pumped up and excited with the melody. Ferocious. 

It had felt pretty great, actually. But, now that the melody was gone, his body ached in a reminder that he really didn't have the energy for all that. Whatever he'd saved up by eating and drinking and taking it easy as they walked had drained back out. The hollow feeling was back. 

The man- Mo Xuanyu, had been the one playing the flute. There had been another spirit who had answered as well - a wild-haired man with a blank face and black veins crawling up his neck and hands. Spooky to look at, but he hadn’t even looked at the humans with aggression. The two of them had been united in ‘Protect the Humans’ 

Danny pulled his arm down to stare up at the clouds. 

If Mo Xuanyu had the ability to charm ghost, wouldn’t it make sense if he could speak in a way that any ghost could understand? Maybe that's why Danny could understand him. 

Plus, if he did have that sort of power, maybe he knew more about how to track down Ember and let Danny return to his own world.

Cheered by that thought, Danny sat up, scratching Apple’s cheek.

“I left them right over here, I swear. Not much further.”

Ah! Speak of the devil. 

Danny climbed to his feet, leaning against Apple when his lightheaded feeling tried to make him swoon. He untied the animal, gently pulling him to the road. 

Mo Xuanyu was walking next to a tall man in billowing, pristine white robes. He had the chilliest expression on his face, but somehow gave the impression he was paying intense attention to whatever the other man was saying. 

Mo Xuanyu turned, saw Danny, and his face flashed through surprise and relief, then forced happiness. 

“Danny!” He cried out, lifting a hand to wave it exuberantly. 

Danny lifted his own hand in a much smaller wave, recognizing the teens that had chased him through the forest. They didn’t seem to recognize him, though.

Mo Xuanyu bounced up to him, taking Apple’s reins when they were offered. 

“Danny, this is HanGuan Jun, courtesy name Lan Wangji. Those are the junior disciples of the Gusu Lan Sect, and the two of us will be traveling with them for a while! Lan Wangji, this is Danny.” 

Danny, entirely intending to bear those words to memory, nonetheless forgot all of their names instantly. 

The tall man inclined his head, and Danny kept waving his hand, before remembering and dropping into an awkward bow and “It’s very nice to meet you.” 

When he stood up, Mo Xuanyu’s face was something frantic, his hands waving. 

“No, it’s nothing like that!” (No one had said anything?) “I found him on the road this morning, he fainted from dehydration in front of me, I just gave him some food and he followed me, so I had him take care of Apple so they wouldn’t get caught up with the goddess statue! Totally innocent relationship! He’s a child!” 

“I’m 16.” He protested, and Mo Xuanyu waved an arm in his direction. 

“See! 16! Practically a baby!” 

That got several affronted looks from the teens behind the man in white, but he spoke a few soft words and silenced them. They all followed him like neat little ducklings, watching him for cues. Their robes were all very similar as well - spotless white with faint, pale blue swirls around their shoulders and hems. Some of them had blue on their headband. 

He wondered how they kept their robes so white on such a dusty road. 

The man in white spoke to him, and Danny turned awkwardly to Mo Xuanyu for translation. 

“HanGuan Jun wants to know if you feel safe traveling with me.” 

Danny gave the man his own offended frown, wondering why he was so suspicious of a man who’d been nothing but gracious and kind. He nodded sharply, sidling up to Apple and, by proxy, putting Mo Xuanyu between himself and the folks dressed in white. 

“Like I said, Danny can’t really understand most people. He started following me because he can understand my voice. He heard one of you playing in the woods earlier, and said he could understand the words being played.” Mo Xuanyu led Apple out from behind him, forcing Danny to step out as well. “I was hoping to introduce him to your sect, or maybe just lob him in your direction to fix whatever curse this is, but if we’re going to be traveling together anyway, that works, too.” 

Mo Xuanyu’s voice became audibly drearier near the end there. 

“We’re traveling with them?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah, HanGuan Jun got me out of a tight spot, so now I’m accompanying them to Gusu.” That was definitely a depressed voice. 

The man in white said something sharp and Mo Xuanyu just groaned louder, flopping himself over Apple’s back and letting the donkey drag his feet along the ground as it wandered back toward the shady grass to the side of the road. 

Danny rubbed his own forearm, not sure what to do in this situation. The headache still pounding quietly didn't help matters, and his skin was still warm from sunburn. Being exhausted all the time probably was slowing his healing, too. 

The man in white closed his eyes in a slow sigh, then opened them and gave Danny a small nod. 

He said something, started walking, and the other teens fell into two neat lines behind him. One of the boys offered him a gentle smile and stayed behind, beckoning with his hand to join them. Danny sketched a shallow bow of his own, turning to grab Apple’s reins so they wouldn’t get separated. 

The donkey hemmed noisily for a moment, stomping his foot and refusing to move, but the friendly teen pulled an apple out from a pocket and waved it front of the soft nose. 

Apple perked his ears, happily trotting after them. The teen huffed a little laugh, somehow tearing the apple in half and letting the donkey eat a chunk. He held the other half temptingly, and Apple continued to follow.

A boy with shorter hair and a thinner face stepped up on the other side of Apple, squinting at Danny for a moment before holding up a thick chunk of bamboo on a rope. Danny took it carefully, realizing at its soft sounds and weight that it held water inside. It took a moment to understand how the cap came off, but he drank gratefully, carefully not letting the container touch his lips as he poured it into his mouth.

Gym class water bottle sharing etiquette. 

Mo Xuanyu grumbled something nonsensical and kicked against the ground to help himself hang more comfortably across his mighty steed’s barrel of a back.

His dragging toes left a wiggling little trail behind their group.


	6. Ducklings with Culture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I started adding author's notes to chapters to explain certain culture stuff. If you started reading earlier and are now coming back, you may want to browse through earlier chapters for back-added author's notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Side note: The textile work of The Untamed costume department is upsettingly gorgeous. I’m mad about how pretty it is, and that I can’t afford to wear that.)

Lan Jingyi wasn’t sure what to make of the new boy, but the Lan standards of hospitality kept him from needling him over it. 

However, it didn’t stop him from sharing glances with Lan Sizhui as they walked. 

Firstly, Danni’s name was weird. Who named their kid ‘but, you-’ like a punchline of a joke. He didn’t know the setup of that one, but it probably ended with the mother of a newborn exclaiming her offense over something, and the father obviously thinking she was saying her new son’s name…. and then sticking to it. He’d heard a folk tale like that before. The strange name let the protagonist wordplay his way out of a monster’s meal. 

The lack of a clan name wasn’t that odd. Some people discarded theirs, or were banished from their family and lost the right to it. He’d heard of a few families up north who didn’t have clan names at all, and just used their given and courtesy names. 

Lan Jingyi glanced at the boy’s ruddy cheeks and neck, feeling a bit of sympathy for the dark red mottling. His skin was terribly fair, and even with his own slightly darker skin, the last time Lan Jingyi got a minor burn on his forehead he remembered the healing process to be frustratingly itchy. 

With skin that pale, a northern clan did make a bit more sense. However, the lack of callouses on his hands, generally slender build, and the way an hour of sedately walking was already making him sweat made Danni seem more like someone of noble birth. 

Well, he would, if not for the shorn hair. It made Lan Jingyi’s head itch just looking at it. Everyone must have noticed it, but no one had asked outright. He wasn't even covering up with a hat. 

Regardless, he didn’t seem like he traveled much. 

Which made the reason for his obvious dehydration and hunger a bit more apparent. Danni carried NOTHING with him.

Lan Jingyi didn’t expect everyone to have a Qiankun pouch - that was a cultivator tool, after all, and took qi to open and close. But a bag, a sack, obvious POCKETS, even - he could see nothing of the sort. 

Well, his blue trousers seemed to have pockets, at least. Enough for a hand and wrist to fit into. They could probably carry small tools, and had helpful loops for tying on bags - he could see a simple sword sheathe fitting neatly through one. Still! No supplies! 

“Master Mo,” Lan Jingyi started, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. If the lunatic was willing to translate for them, it would make solving this riddle a lot easier. 

Mo Xuanyu made a noise to show he was listening, though he was still draped over the donkey ridiculously. 

“You have a question?” The man asked after a moment, dragging his arms up to prop under his body so he could twist and look up at Lan Jingyi. His hanged-corpse makeup was still jarring to look at. 

“Did Danni lose his family, or something? Is that why he hasn’t any supplies?” 

Mo Xuanyu hummed, tapping his lips, and Lan Jingyi felt foolish as he remembered the boy might not understand HIM, but he could still understand Mo Xuanyu. And was probably sticking close by to listen. 

“Danni-“ Mo Xuanyu started, and Lan Jingyi felt his ears heat as he realized that gesture might have been a reprimand for talking behind someone’s back. Something certainly not allowed. It made him bristle a little to think the lunatic knew his Sect’s rules better than he did, but the feeling of contriteness didn’t pass either. 

Danni turned, and Mo Xuanyu continued. 

“Did you get robbed, or something? Why don’t you have any traveling supplies?”

“Ah-“ he rubbed the back of his neck, muttering something incomprehensible in that strange garble of syllables. 

“And you couldn’t find your parents?” 

What a strange curse. 

He couldn’t know about all the curses in the world - there were many of them, from curses that made one’s eyebrows fall out, or grow plague lesions on the skin, or even drill holes right through the body. He’d read about curses for bad luck, and touch-spreading itchiness, and the Lan clan’s silencing spell was technically an extremely mild, short-term curse. (Though no one would call it that.) 

Most curses ended either on a time limit, or if the caster decided to lift it, or happened to die.

“Have you ever used a transportation seal?” 

Danni looked up, wide-eyed, and Lan Sizhui turned as well.

A word, and Mo Xuanyu elaborated.

“It’s a talisman that lets someone travel long distances in a flash. If that woman used a faulty or damaged one while in a panic, it’s possible that she ended up somewhere she didn’t intend.” 

Apple honked in irritation as Danni’s suddenly gesturing hands nearly poked him in the eye, but Mo Xuanyu was listening intently. 

“He says-“ Mo Xuanyu started, but stopped as Danni continued to talk, hands moving in the air like he was sculpting a scene with every word. He finally stopped, and Mo Xuanyu started again. 

“He says he was chasing someone who was causing trouble, and they were both suddenly transported onto a mountain near here. He didn’t expect to leave home, which is why he didn’t have any supplies on him. Was she the one who cursed you?” 

Danni shrugged, but continued to talk, miming playing an instrument - maybe a pipa? He made a big gesture with his hand, and gave a wind-like sound effect.

“He doesn’t know if the language problem is her fault, but he still wants to find her for punishment for what she did.” Danni protested, but Mo Xuanyu waved his hand “You implied it, and I don’t think I’m wrong about that.”

A huff. 

“The woman,” Mo Xuanyu continued, “would be very recognizable. She carries a ge- ge-ta, no, that words not translating right. Are you sure it’s a real word?” Danni nodded, miming like he was holding an instrument. He seemed to describe it, shaping a long neck and a round body, and pretended to twist something on one end before holding his fingers crookedly and strumming across. 

“A pipa? Ruan? Luqin?" Mo Xuanyu opened his hands in supplication. “Yueqin? No? I don’t know any other string instruments shaped like that.”

It was a little odd understanding only one side of the conversation. 

Mo Xuanyu huffed, swinging his body so he was sitting astride the donkey instead of just laying over it. 

“Your mystery woman plays an instrument, and she can send blasts of energy with it.” 

Danni nodded, and the other Lan boys were being less discreet with how keenly they were listening in. 

“She controlled other people with it.”

Another nod. 

“Could she fly?” 

Danni looked surprised and wary, and gave a small nod and a question. 

“You described her going over the people, not through them.” 

Lan Jingyi noticed even HanGuang Jun was listening in, head tilted slightly as they walked. 

Lan Sizhui spoke, “That sounds like a rogue cultivator. If she could use her instrument as a spiritual weapon to manipulate living people, then she sounds powerful enough to use a transportation seal.” 

It was a lucky thing Danni had appeared so close to them - as a clan who specialized in instruments as a spiritual tool, they had the best bet of neutralizing such a cultivator. 

Mo Xuanyu nodded thoughtfully, and Lan Jingyi realized, “You don’t sound much like a lunatic right now.” 

Mo Xuanyu gave him a narrow look, but waved his hand dismissively. 

“Danni, why did you try to fight someone like that?” 

The strange teen looked defensive, then avoidant, turning his eyes to the clouds with a shrug. 

“Then, how long ago did this happen?” 

The boy tilted his head, mentally counting, then held up two fingers. Mo Xuanyu’s face seemed carefully neutral. 

“And what meals have you had, in two days? 

Danni shrugged again, mumbling something that made Mo Xuanyu’s eyebrow twitch. 

“HanGuang Jun!” He suddenly called out. Danni started to protest, but was ignored. “Can we set up camp soon? I’m tired!” He slumped dramatically on the donkey, laying over the beast’s neck like he was feeling faint. 

Lan Wangji hummed, but turned their little procession off the road to find a suitable clearing. It was nearly sunset anyway, their shadows stretching long and thin across the dusty road. 

Danni seemed embarrassed, and Lan Sizhui tried his best to reassure him with little pats on the shoulder and pointing out the sun. Like most common non-cultivators, his eyes grew wide when they started pulling bundles out of their quiankun pouches.

Happily, he seemed eager to help without being prompted, holding rope and carrying things to help set up camp. Mo Xuanyu sent him off with Lan Sizhui and a few other junior disciples to gather fallen wood and dry bamboo stalks for a campfire. 

—-

There was some confused frustration around Danni refusing to drink when they found a stream nearby, but the boy carried a bucket of water back to camp alongside the others, his face set with determination. 

It was one of the disciples from a smaller village who reminded them that not all water sources were as clean as the springs and wells around Gusu, and people who weren’t cultivating a golden core were much more susceptible to getting sick after drinking impure water. 

That issue solved, they were quick to build a fire and boil some water, pleased to find their guest eagerly drinking even the scorching hot water. No wonder he’d passed out from thirst, if he was that careful about what he drank. 

The rumor about being the son of an important clan who lost his hair in some tragic accident or enemy clan retaliation grew in popularity between the disciples. Probably the second or third son, if he was so poor at courtly manners. He didn’t know how to bow at all. He was terrible at gathering wood, and his posture for carrying a bucket probably strained his back, and his endurance for travel was that of a child. But, he didn't seem ashamed of his hair, even running his hands through it when he was trying to think. After even a few hours of being around him, none of them believed this awkward boy been imprisoned to get his strange haircut. 

Maybe it was the way he earnestly tried to help them set up camp, or the way he kept glancing at them, awkwardly mimicking the way they sat. 

Maybe it was how, when Lan Sizhui asked Mo Xuanyu to translate “what do you do like to do?” Danni answered ‘Making maps, and playing strategy games.’ Terribly useful skills to have for a clan head's son, and hinted at a life of personal tutors. The few of them who had met Nie Huaisang compared the two of them. 

Maybe it was how embarrassed and thankful he seemed when one of them poured water for him when his cup was empty, and moved food onto his plate when it looked bare, even though if he WAS an important son, he should have been used to the respectful treatment. The Lan disciples exchanged looks over each other’s heads in silent agreement. 

He must be protected. 

——

When they bedded down for the night, Lan Sizhui offered a clean extra set of under clothes for the boy to sleep in, sure the sweaty and stained clothes would be uncomfortable. Danni didn’t protest the early bed time like many had when traveling with the Lan sect, seeming relieved to flop himself onto a sleeping mat and pass out well before the desciples had finished sorting themselves out.

He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 

Of the shared tents, Lan Jingyi had volunteered to be paired with Danni. Mostly from a selfish curiosity, but also because Lan Sizhui, despite being his best friend and who he was usually paired with, was not a peaceful sleeper. 

He’d woken more than once on their traveling trips to find a foot pushed against his ribs, or to a hand smacking against his cheek. It’d gotten better as they got older, but still occasionally became annoying. Lan Jingyi was a light sleeper, anyway. Anyone who thrashed in their sleep, or got up in the middle of the night to relieve themselves always woke him up. 

Someone else could deal with wrapping Lan Sizhui up like a little spring roll to stop the flailing limbs tonight. 

Lan Jingyi sighed at their guest’s already-sleeping face, noting that he hadn’t even put on the clean clothes Lan Sizhui offered. Well, he had a spare outer robe tucked away in his qiankun bag, so between the two of them they could probably give him a full outfit to wear tomorrow. 

A few of them had already cleaned their robes in the river, letting the night wind do most of the drying. If it rained, they could always use wind talismans to dry them off when they woke. 

He plucked at Danni’s shoes, curious at the white metal rings the laces fed through. Bright red wasn’t a color he’d seen on shoes often, either. The sole’s texture was strange. Still, he pulled them off and set them to the side, then laid on his own sleeping mat and shut his eyes. 

Surprisingly, it was dawn when he next opened them. 

Even more surprisingly, Danni wasn’t in their shared tent. 

His shoes gone, and Lan Jingyi threw his robes avnd shoes back on as quick as he could, hastily straightening his forehead ribbon before scrambling out of the tent. 

Seeing his alarm, Mo Xuanyu pointed him toward the stream. 

Since the man was calmly eating his rice porridge breakfast instead of wondering where their guest was, then it must be fine. 

He sat down at the little fire and ate his own breakfast. 

——

Lan Sizhui was the one who noticed Danni leaving camp, so early in the morning that the sun hadn’t even touched the sky with light. His own restless sleeping had sent him out to stare at the fire’s embers for a bit in meditation. He’d planned on going back to sleep for a few hours. 

But when Danni slipped out of the tent so quietly that Lan Jingyi didn’t wake, Lan Sizhui felt curious. He followed their guest out of camp, down the leafy slope toward the stream. His own feet were as quiet as he could make them, enough that Danni didn’t appear to notice being followed. 

Understanding reached him when the boy started taking off his shoes, reaching around to pull off his shirt, and Lan Sizhui quickly turned his back on him. 

Just wanted some privacy to bathe. That made sense. He’d probably been too tired when they settled down, and two days of travel without eating or drinking would knock anyone off their feet. 

He heard the soft splashes and a sigh of relief, through he tensed hearing the soft hiss of pain. No, it was probably just soreness from travel - blistered feet. Lan Sizhui could offer him some healing poultices for his feet during breakfast, and an extra pair of socks. 

He wondered if this was how Lan Wangji felt, any time they’d gotten scratched on a night hunt. The man didn’t fuss out loud, but his disciples had become familiar with the quiet way he’d suddenly leave bandatages or herbs or food in their lap, leaving without a word. Lan Jingyi had complained once of tearing the corner of his hem on a branch, and found a little sewing kit had appeared in his sleeve some time later. 

Anyway, he could hear someone approaching by the crunching of leaves. 

Danni apparently heard it too, and shouted something. 

“Alright, just checking!” Mo Xuanyu called back, and left before he could see Lan Sizhui leaning against his tree. Realizing he probably seemed suspicious hovering around like this, Lan Sizhui headed back toward camp.

* * *

The ‘noble’ rumor solidified even more when Danni struggled to put on his new robes. He got the undershirt and socks just fine, but he kept wiggling around in the outer robe, winding the sash around himself too many or too few times, and tucking it strangely so that it untucked itself and dropped down the moment he tried to adjust his collar. He briefly tied the sash like a belt, knotting it in front of him, but frowned at the subtle embroidery being pinched and gently un-did his work to try again. Had he always had servants to put his clothes on for him? Even common folk could figure out a simple uniform like this. 

His burnt cheeks flushed even darker red when one of the other boys stepped in to help him, folding the robe across his chest and winding his belt with ease of familiarity. Danni wouldn’t understand the assurance that he’d dressed his little brother before, or that their uniform took some getting used to, but the words were said with kindness. 

At least the robes fit him perfectly - he was about their size in height and build. He held himself stiffly after that, cautiously lifting his hems away from the leaflitter. 

The campsite was broken down and neatly placed back into their qiankun bags. Everyone was fed and watered, containers refilled from the kettle, and embers carefully doused and covered. 

They were on their way again. 

* * *

Mo Xuanyu decided to lead his donkey up at the front, teasing and mostly talking AT HanGuang Jun.

Still in the back of the group, Danni apparently assumed no one was watching as he patted at his clothes, examining the embroidery with an impressed face. He swished his sleeves around, taking a few large steps to see how much room he had to walk, and seemed surprised when it allowed full range of motion. 

They did have to train and fight and run in these outfits, after all. Being constraining would defeat their purpose. The boy’s sturdy trousershad seemed much tighter, and his old shirt stretched around his shoulders, so perhaps he was used to more constricting clothes. 

Even if they had nothing to do with the construction of his new garments, they were pleased he seemed to like them so much, and a few of them had to cover their faces with their own sleeves to hide smiles when he realized how much pocket space his sleeves actually held and showed them the most thunderstruck amazement.

Lan Jingyi caught his attention with a wave and, acting casual, slipped his hand into the front of his robe and pulled out a folding fan, snapping it open casually to fan his face as if he wasn’t just showing off the extra storage space of their outfits. 

Danni was suitably impressed with this new discovery. 

Everything was pockets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Danny’s reaction is also how I reacted when I first tried on a Yukata for the first time. For those who don’t know, a Yukata is Japanese traditional men’s wear. Mine was meant for the summer, so it was very lightweight. It’s shockingly comfortable, with a huge range of motion, and seemingly infinite pocket space in the sleeves and chest fold. I carried my wallet, phone, a book, a folded scarf, and a bag of snacks in my sleeves at once. Amazing. I wish I could wear that garment as my everyday clothing. (It also took a lot of trial and error for me to learn how to tie the sash properly)  
> The Chinese Hanfu that the Lan sect wears is notably even more complex than my yukata, but the sleeves are way bigger. Unfortunately I don’t know as much about ancient Chinese fashion as I’d like, and the MDZS hanfu is also a ‘fantasy’ type garment based on blending several styles together and even borrowing from Japanese styles. I can break down the basic parts by looking at it, but I don’t know the proper names for anything.


	7. Hiding in Mists

If anyone had asked Danny a month ago ‘Hey, do you want to take a week long hike through rural China, primarily along mountain roads with zero electronics,’ he might have agreed to it. Sounded like an adventure! 

Now, after five days of walking with a group of boys his own age who apparently fought ghosts with swords, one single person acting as translator, and everything from the food to the currency completely foreign to him, that vacation pitch would sound far less appealing. 

On top of that, everything ached from constantly walking. 

Sure, the landscapes were absolutely breathtaking. Every morning he awoke to new mountains breaking through rivers of fog, colorful birds flying overhead, new foods to try. Jewel-like beetles flitted about and were ignored as commonplace. Flowers unfurling like painted trumpets, nectar sweet and heavy in the air. And the stars! 

On the nights he couldn’t fall asleep right away, Danny watched strange stars turn overhead, completely untouched by light pollution. A blaze of stripes from faraway galaxies, meteors flashing as they fell into the atmosphere. A few bright stars that he couldn’t put names to, shining blue and green and red. 

Was it worth endless blisters and worries about disease-carrying insects and struggles with socialization worth the trouble? Eh-

If he’d chosen to come rather than land accidentally, and had packed better shoes, maybe. 

Had he chosen this sort of adventure, he likely wouldn’t have to worry about how much time was passing, anxiously watching the sun and moon dance over his head, knowing his family and friends and responsibilities back home would be missing him. 

Five days - six counting the first day he’d hiked on his own - and the slow trickle of his powers returning still didn’t let him transform fully. 

It gnawed at him. 

* * *

He’d joined the boys in their stretches for the last few days, watching their sword katas with interest. He’d also managed to, after several embarrassing days of asking Mo Xuanyu to repeat the syllables so he could practice them in his head, finally remember their names. 

Well, some of them. 

A few of them. 

The whole ‘Given name, Courtesy name’ thing tripped him up, but he caught on quick enough that no one seemed deeply offended by him. Or, they weren’t making it obvious, anyway. None of them pressed about his own name, and he was glad for it. Being called Fenton-Danny the whole time he was here wasn’t appealing to him. 

He did know that it was Lan Sizhui who was the kindest, and Lan Jingyi who hung around him the most to complain that his curse had been throwing off some sort of evil-sensing compass. The other boys told him it was a junk trinket, but Lan Jingyi insisted it really did work, most of the time. 

* * *

Cloud Recesses was, apparently, another _fucking_ mountain. 

An especially steep mountain, with lots of stairs.

Because of course it was. 

While the proper roads tended to vary in their steepness, they did tend to be friendly enough for a donkey and cart to pass. Kind enough for the average merchant to make their way to the next town over. 

Gusu’s steps had no such qualms. They were long. They were steep. They had perfectly even spacing, so Danny was able to enter such a state of mindless automation that he nearly toppled over. He caught himself on the steps, but the near-slip into what would have been a terribly long and painful tumble down the side of a mountain scared him enough to be mindful of his surroundings. To focus on the thigh-burning stairwells and keeping his breath steady. 

None of the other boys had the slightest problem with this, the bastards. 

If he’d been in ghost form, he wouldn’t even have to worry about _breathing_ and that inspired both frustration and vindication. 

Unsurprisingly, Mo Xuanyu threw another one of his small tantrums when they reached the top of the mountain, weeping over his donkey and not wanting to leave it. He didn’t try to run away this time. 

Danny had edged toward a panic attack the first time Mo Xuanyu tried to sneak off in the night and leave the lost half-ghost without a translator. The meek ‘You can still speak to them through Inquiry’ didn’t really do much to soothe that alarm, since the lead guy - HanGuang Jun, or Lan Wangji, or whatever third and fourth name people occasionally called him - didn’t want to poke at a curse without any protections up. Especially one that acted on the mind. 

The protections on sect's entrance made his hair stand on end, but they didn’t do harm. 

Cloud Recesses itself was breathtaking. Sweeping cliffs and mountain slopes, with massive waterfalls casting billowing clouds of mist across walkways. Dark wood buildings stood amidst the fog, upturned corners of Chinese roofs and the silver glisten of wet stone paths made the whole area look like a fairy tale come to life. 

Lan Jingyi seemed pleased at his stunned expression and made a wide gesture that looked like ‘welcome’. Danny nodded dumbly, wondering how long it took to build something like this. 

The boys split away from them, and Danny was left with the two adults, and some other tall guy who met them at the doorway. He and HanGuang Jun looked similar, so… brothers, maybe? Cousins? 

Danny took his bowing cues from Mo Xuanyu, following the men deeper into Cloud Recesses. Lan Xi-something left them once they entered the compound, wishing them well. 

From artfully sculpted bonsai to scenic benches next to streams, to towering bamboo forests, everything seemed like it was from a fantasy movie set. Bolts of white cloth fluttered along the ceiling inside buildings, and Danny only half-listened to Mo Xuanyu chattering about how rare it was for average people to visit Cloud Recesses, how beautiful it was here, something about rules. 

They arrived at a lovely building with wind chimes hanging around the porch, and Danny was ushered into a side room with sliding wood-and-paper doors. Diagrams encircled the walls, a low table with cushions welcoming him to sit down.

It felt like his head might pop off from how much he was swiveling it, trying to take in every part of the beautiful architecture and decor. Was that an abacus? When was the last time he saw one of those? Half of the room was partitioned off by a folding screen wall, only barely hiding a tall table. 

Danny finally tuned into the ungracefully sprawled Mo Xuanyu, who was now complaining about not getting a night off of his own to rest and recovery from the long journey. 

“They’re treating me like a pack animal, the Lans are so cruel, I might die from overwork.” The man lamented, laying down on the floor and covering his face with an arm in a dramatic swoon. He seemed pleased at Danny’s snicker, and swooned harder when Lan Wangji gave him a deadpan stare and muttered word. 

Mo Xuanyu did sit back up when an elderly man opened the door, wispy mustache and short beard nearly white with age. Mo Xuanyu explained his translation issue to the doctor, said he’d be passing on whatever the doctor said, and let Danny know that he could move to the other area for privacy if he wished. 

Danny tried his best to keep calm. 

He and doctors rarely mixed well. 

Medically speaking, he ran colder than the average person. An ice core would do such a thing.

Medically speaking, he healed a whole lot faster than the average person due to his ghostly half, and had a whole lot more scars than the average person from his whole ‘Fighting ghosts’ career. (If you could call two years a career.) 

So it was a bit of a surprise when the doctor (according to Mo Xuanyu’s translations) didn’t mention either of those things. Their faces didn’t even twitch when he shrugged off Lan Sizhui’s robe from his shoulders to let the old man prod at his chest and stomach, then along his spine and shoulders. He didn’t expect Lan Wangji’s face to twitch - he’d yet to see it happen at anything- but Mo Xuanyu’s face was a rainbow of expressions, and it was odd to see him not react at all to something he thought ought to garner some sort of face. 

He only received an encouraging smile, and commentary about cultivation, and youthful energy, something like that. It was actually rather reassuring. 

Then, the doctor said something that did make his face change. 

Surprise, concern. 

“What?” He asked, but the doctor kept saying something to Mo Xuanyu and HanGuang jun, the former looking increasingly worried before suddenly flickering to an obviously forced smile. 

“Ah, don’t worry, Danny! He found some interesting energy around your golden core, and that’s probably the source of the issue. You know, it’s really impressive you developed one so young, you’ll have to teach the juniors some of your tricks! Maybe they’ll stop trailing after HanGuang Jun like lost ducklings once they develop cores of their own!” 

Danny heard the word ‘Core’ and ‘strange energy’ and couldn’t help tensing. 

Okay, so they could sense his ghostly core. But they were fine with it? Except there was something wrong, so-

Mo Xuanyu must have seen something on his face, and nodded to the doctor over Danny’s shoulder.

Maybe that strange energy was what was stopping him from transforming? 

“They’d like to put a demonic energy binding seal on you, to pull the resentful energy away from your qi paths. It’s part of a cleansing ritual that many of our cultivators go through when they’ve been exposed to powerful malicious spirits for a long time, and their own meditation can’t cleanse them. " Mo Xuanyu paused in his monotone recitation of the doctor's words, checking on his expression. "Does that make sense to you?” 

Demonic energy sounded bad. It was bad, right? 

He watched Lan Wangji pull a slip of creamy paper from a pocket of his robe, held between two fingers. The man watched until Danny gave a nod, then pressed the bit of paper between his shoulder blades. 

Something like electricity jolted up his spine. Hot and cold and fizzy with static-

then nothing. 

He didn’t see the three startled faces when his body abruptly slumped over, talisman sparking electric green. Lan Wangji was closest and caught the boy before he could fall off the examination table.

His head lolled, eyes half-open and limbs hanging like a doll whose strings had been cut. 

* * *

**POV CHANGE - WEI WUXIAN**

* * *

They’d taken the talisman off right away, but the boy didn’t wake.

He closed his eyes, slow breathing still steady, and seemed to go into a deep sleep. 

When the doctor anxiously examined his golden core, he was startled and concerned to find that it was suddenly much smaller, seemingly less developed than the one he’d first seen in the boy. As if years of cultivation had been stripped away. 

Wei Wuxian itched to see the talisman, but couldn’t think of a reason why Lan Zhan ought to hand it over to someone like Mo Xuanyu. He’d seen the green spark of spirit-fire - an acidic shade that he’d only seen at the height of his former power, when he’d used _Chenqing_ to fight in the Sunshot campaign before his death. Orchestrating the movement of corpses with his flute, resentful energy trilled heavily through the air back then. Nearby fires had been influenced by the powerful aura, shifting from red and orange to an uncanny green. 

Lan Zhan had been there, too. From the intense way he was staring at the talisman in his hand, he’d seen that particular color as well. 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how to proceed from this point. He plastered a smile to his face, but his mind was racing, connecting dots in a furious race. 

Danny could understand Wei Wuxian, and the Lan Sect’s musical language.

Said language was made to communicate with the dead. 

Danny had caught the attention of the Lan Juniors enough that they’d chased after him with their swords drawn - but despite his lackluster physical abilities while on the road, had managed to elude them. 

Add that to Lan Jingyi’s note about his Compass of Evil pointing toward Danny the first few days they traveled, and to the fact that they hadn’t encountered a SINGLE wayward spirit on their entire journey back to Gusu. 

That never happened. 

Wandering spirits were like moths. They were drawn toward the flame of the living, jealous of what they no longer had. Usually ignorable even by regular travelers, it was normal to at least SEE some of them while traveling. It was almost habit for most cultivators to sidetrack to graveyards and abandoned huts in the forest to find poorly-buried bodies and put their souls to rest. The first and most common step of any spirit encounter was to appease the spirit's last wishes. It was the bread and butter of rogue cultivators, and kept other spirits and beings from rising to power too quickly - wandering spirits made a good snack and power boost, if a being learned to eat souls. 

Wei Wuxian hadn’t taken note of it at the time, hadn’t been looking for it, but he knew that low-level spirits could be scared away if a being much more powerful than them was in the area. He’d been able to use his own menacing aura of resentful energy to create fear and even low-level terror hallucinations in regular humans - of course he'd been able to make low-level spirits and walking corpses flee on sight. 

But he hadn't been projecting an aura - he didn't know if his current body had the capacity for such things. 

Danny was the only one with resentful energy among them. 

Danny was also nearby when Wei Wuxian had somehow summoned those bright green ferocious sprites, who managed to tear apart the goddess statue even faster than Wen Ning. 

Bright green sprites, the same color as the spirit-fire spark the talisman wasn’t able to contain while siphoning energy off of Danny’s golden core. 

No, not golden - the doctor had mentioned when investigating that his meridians had been strangely cold. Not the sunny warmth of a golden core, that made cultivators run hot. They’d attributed it to the excess resentful energy sensed weaving through his body, but if Danny’s core was suddenly smaller and less developed without the resentful energy in it-

what if it had been made resentful energy in the first place. 

What if Danny was a demonic cultivator? 

One who didn’t wield a sword or develop muscles for martial power because he didn’t need those, to be dangerous. One who had _developed a core_ using resentful energy, something Wei Wuxian had only briefly attempted with the space left behind from his surgically-removed core, and a memory of what it took to cultivate a golden core. If this child had figured out an alternate method of cultivating a core- If Wei Wuxian was RIGHT… 

Then Danny was a prodigious demonic cultivator who Wei Wuxian just handed to Lan Zhan, stripped of his power, and left totally helpless in the very place he’d been trying to avoid. 

“Lan Zhan…” he murmured, trying to keep from showing the deep levels of _(I really just fucked this up)_ his face wanted to twist into. “Can I stay with him, so he has a familiar face….?” 

Lan Zhan was already adjusting the boy in his arms, and the doctor finished his examination. The doctor said the boy needed rest, that this kind of shock was unheard of, or perhaps was a side-effect of the curse, and he wanted to keep the boy here for observation. 

Lan Zhan set Danny back down more comfortably on the examination table, helping brace a pillow under his head. He looked at Wei Wuxian, er, Mo Xuanyu, currently fiddling with his sleeves like a worried parent. 

“Stay.” He agreed, speech as to-the-point as it had been during their first shared life. “Will play _Calming_.” 

Wei Wuxian nodded and sat himself the floor next to Danny’s resting spot. He watched Lan Zhan sit himself on one of the cushions on the other side of the folding screen, unwrapping his guqin from its oilcloth and carefully setting it up on his lap 

The familiar notes began, and Wei Wuxian felt a part of his soul start to relax, thoughts losing their buzzing, angry edge of worry. 

He couldn’t lose his head at a time like this. 

First, he needed to confirm his theory. He couldn’t just make all sorts of assumptions like the Lan juniors had, picking apart little details and assigning them all massive significance.

First, he had to wait for Danny to wake back up.

Then, they could talk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes of COURSE I'm picking my favorite versions of each scene from the novel, comics, cartoon, and live action... Just smashing those canons together. Wei Wuxian's terrifying flute trills while fighting Wen Zhuliu, the storm of crows flying overhead to follow the corpses, and how all the fires turned vivid green... ugh, I love for that aesthetic.


	8. Bestiary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defining things!

Danny awoke gently, to the warm feeling of a hand cradling his wrist. It felt like something singing hot was pouring into his veins at the point of contact. A soft, radiant hum.

It was both like and unlike the ecto-radiation he learned to enjoy from the ghost portal in his basement. 

The portal’s energy always felt like curling mist. Cool and refreshing, always twisting and spiraling. A little hum-snap of lightning hidden in fog.

This was, for a lack of a better word, much straighter. It seemed to flow directly down the line of his arm without all the side-path squiggling that the portal’s energy would have done. It pooled in his chest like a reservoir holding water, instead of soaking into him. It didn’t join the tight spiral of ghostly energy in his chest - the one he pulled from when using his powers. It just flowed around it, shoring up between his ribs.

It was so, so warm. 

He felt himself relax into it, muscles settling like he’d stepped into a hot tub. Scorching, but in a good sort of way. 

Slowly, the reservoir continued to build, its heat increased, and he wrinkled his nose. 

“Too hot.” he mumbled, arm twitching a little to pull it away. The hand let him go, and he curled it to his chest with an approving hum. 

Danny inhaled, felt the strange sunshine-y liquid shift in his chest, and when he exhaled it seemed to spread out to warm the tips of his fingers and toes. 

That was nice. 

He did it again, then decided to hold it in his chest to let himself nod off to the luxuriating heat. 

His ghostly core didn’t seem to know what to do with the warm pool. It wasn’t harmful, just… incompatible. Like oil and water. Perfectly separated, and kinda goopy in the spots they rubbed against each other. 

“I know you’re awake.” He heard a voice, wrinkling his nose as someone tapped the tip of it. He grumbled, hiding his face in his arms. “Aiya, you’re so cute like that, like a little bunny~ It’s time to wake up though, little bun. It’s already tomorrow, and you’ve worried us.” 

“‘M not little.” Danny grumbled, yawning into his hands and scrubbing the gunk out of the corners of his eyes before blearily opening them. 

Mo Xuanyu was standing over him, hands on his hips with a pleased expression. He almost didn’t recognize him with all the makeup washed off. 

“Welcome back, bunny!” he exclaimed, then dropped into a more conspiratorial whisper, “Lan Zhan stepped out to get us breakfast, so it’s just you and me for a few minutes. Gotta be quick!” 

“Quick with what?” Danny sat himself up, tearing up a little with the next jaw-aching yawn. 

“How’s your core feel?” 

“Hmm?” Danny blinked at him, memories sluggishly returning. A melody tickled the edges of it, playing along the warm-sun feeling. “ghost core?” They already knew about cores, about his, so he could be honest. “Hot. Warm. Supposed to be ice.” He hummed sleepily, still rubbing the spot under his sternum where his core tucked itself, and where the golden liquid seemed to be gathering.

Wait-

They’d been saying golden core.

Not ghost core. 

He looked up at Mo Xuanyu, hand suddenly frozen. 

He said too much. 

But Mo Xuanyu looked delighted.

* * *

They didn’t say anything more on the subject, Mo Xuanyu dancing to the door to let Lan Wangji enter with a tray of food and tea. 

“Lan Zhaaaan~ you’re the best!” Mo Xuanyu exclaimed, swooping back forward Danny to offer an arm. 

“Need help getting up? It’s ok if you don’t feel your best.” 

Danny’s mouth was already watering, and he grabbed Mo Xuanyu’s arm without complaint, sliding himself almost-gracefully to his feet before letting go again.

He joined the two at the low table, murmuring “thank you for the food.” 

He let Mo Xuanyu fix the first bowl of what looked and smelled like rice porridge. 

Tasted like rice porridge. 

Mo Xuanyu called it congee. 

...It was rice porridge. 

Still, it was slightly savory, with a subtle sort of sweetness that could have come from the rice or from something else. He wasn’t a chef. He didn’t know those sorts of things. 

“Lan Zhan! I didn’t think you let good spices into Cloud Recess!”

He did know that whatever little jar of sauce Mo Xuanyu just opened made his eyes water from across the table, and infused the congee with an intimidating shade of red. 

The guy seemed to be happy with it. To each their own. 

* * *

After they ate and drank their tea, Lan Wangji gestured to a folded paper to the side of the table. Mo Xuanyu pulled it out from under its weight and unfurled it to start reading with a great amount of sleeve-tossing and stroking of a beard he didn’t have. 

“To the honorable and most esteemed master Danny-“ he started, interrupted by Lan Wangji’s stern words. 

Mo Xuanyu huffed, folded the paper back up and started to fan himself with it. 

“It says you should take it easy, and have someone play _Calming_ for you, for the next few days while your core recovers. Eat food, sleep, meditate, don’t try to run down the mountain, that sort of thing.” 

“Ah, I can do that.” Danny was still on edge from realizing he’d blurted out about his ghost core earlier. Mo Xuanyu wasn’t saying anything now, but that wasn’t to say he wasn’t about to. 

He felt himself glance furtively between the two, observing some sort of silent communication happening between intense eye contact. 

* * *

Eventually, Lan Wangji excused himself, and Mo Xuanyu was left alone with Danny. 

He tried sipping his tea more intently. 

“So, Danny. How does your core feel? Too hot, you said?”

Wary blue eyes met amused grey, and quickly glanced away. 

He shrugged a shoulder. 

“Don’t be like that.” Mo Xuanyu scolded with a smile, leaning his elbows on the table. “Demonic cultivation isn’t well liked, especially here in Cloud Recesses, but I’m not someone you need to fear on that front.” 

Danny set his cup down, shoulder twitching in a shrug again. 

Mo Xuanyu watched him fill his own cup again watched him deliberately occupy his mouth with tea so he wouldn’t have to reply. 

“So cold.” The man sighed, pulling a knee up and slinging an arm over it. He waved his hand absently. 

“The Lan doctor and HanGuang Jun aren’t stupid, you know. When they placed the binding seal on you, it sucked out way more resentful energy than the average person can carry around. Then, you fainted. That’s a pretty obvious cause-and-affect.” Mo Xuanyu watched him from behind messy bangs, waiting for a response. 

Danny set his cup down harder than he meant to, cursing and apologizing the moment he realized he’d sloshed some of it onto the pretty wood. He fussed to clean it, trying to gather his own thoughts together when the sloshing in his chest just wouldn’t stop. 

“Hey so you know how you gave me some sort of golden core energy transfer thing?” Danny gestured to his chest, and Mo Xuanyu nodded, brightening when he realized the silent wall was breaking.

“Lan Wangji did, yes. This bo- this one is not a strong cultivator.” 

“Can you like, take it out again? That energy?” 

The man tilted his head in curiosity. 

“Take it out? Why?”

Danny made a displeased face, trying to articulate what about it he disliked. “It’s all… goopy.” 

“....Goopy.” Mo Xuanyu parroted. 

“Like someone dropped a bunch of oil into my tea, and whenever I try to drink I just get oil all over my face.” 

He tried to push energy toward his hands, but the warm liquid along with it, slogging along like slowly pouring honey. It felt nice when he was still sleepy, but actually trying to DO anything with it was sticky and slow. 

“If you didn’t have a golden core, it should have just dissipated.” 

Mo Xuanyu seemed throughtful, and reached out for Danny’s arm. He offered it obligingly, though the back of his neck prickled with the strangeness of trusting someone with his _core_ of all things. 

“Right, but I guess I do have one, its just clogged up now.” 

Mo Xuanyu did something - it felt like a little flutter where his fingers touched Danny’s wrist. His expression was strange. Contemplative. 

“Try pushing that energy to me, Danny. Send it in an energy transfer. Even low-level cultivators can do it.” 

Danny sighed, using the long exhale to push the sticky warmth all on its own. It slid down the inside of his arm, and a pale white-gold glow flickered between his skin and Mo Xuanyu’s fingers. 

Danny watched it with a hum of interest. He relaxed happily when the last of it drained out of him, and the frosty swirl of his cold core settled back down. Trying to get the last of the sunshine-warmth of out his system, Danny and Mo Xuanyu both jumped when a little green crackle lept between them. 

“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Are you okay?” 

Mo Xuanyu had pulled his arm away to his chest in a reflexive recoil. His face seemed alarmed. Grey eyes flickered up, and the man visibly forced himself to relax.

“I’m not hurt, don’t worry. It just reminded me of something else. I have some experience with demonic cultivation, it was just surprising.” 

“Why do you call it that?”

Mo Xuanyu hummed questioningly. 

“Demonic cultivation. It has to do with ghosts, right? Not demons.” Danny felt out his core and frowned at how barren it was once again. The food was helping - good food and rest always did - but he disliked being suddenly weak again after a week of saving his energy. 

Mo Xuanyu looked thoughtful again as he answered with a question. 

“What would you call it, then?” 

“Uh, ghost energy? Ghost powers?” He tried to keep his face schooled, to hide how hard his heart was racing. “A ghost-half.” 

“That’s Interesting.” Mo Xuanyu tugged an ink brush off one of the back shelves and ground himself some ink as quickly as he could in an elaborately carved little black tray. Danny watched as he scrawled diagrams over it with characters he couldn’t understand. It did look Chinese-ish to his untrained eye. 

“Do you know the difference between Ghosts, Monsters, Demons, and Fae?” 

“Like, fairies? Those are real?” Danny squinted at the diagrams, not sure what he should be looking at. 

Mo Xuanyu helpfully doodled some actual pictures next to the characters. 

“Monsters are formed from dead, non-human beings. Like, an ancient tree that was cut down without respect might gather enough resentment to manifest as a human-hating monster, to get revenge. This would also apply to animal spirits, like a bull or tiger.” 

Danny made a noise of agreement. He’d been mauled by enough wolf and octopus ghosts to acknowledge them. Plus, Undergrowth. He’d never really separated them from the rest of ghosts, since they all had enough intelligence to lay traps and form alliances. 

“Then there’s Ghosts, which are formed from dead humans. So, things like Fierce Corpses, Drowned Ghosts, Hanged Ghosts, that sort of thing.” Mo Xuanyu checked to make sure Danny was following. 

“Fae, or Faries, are formed from living, non-human beings. For instance, if a bamboo grove developed a spiritual heart, and started playing tricks on the people who entered, turning them around in circles until they escaped or died. Or,” the man’s expression became nostalgic, “Like a creature who devours enough people that the resentful energy from their corpses turns it into something powerful, like a Tortoise of Slaughter.” 

Danny couldn’t stop the little huff of laughter, and hid his smile with his tea cup when Mo Xuanyu looked up with annoyance. 

“Sorry, a tortoise? Really?”

The man harrumphed, jabbing his brush at the final character with enough energy to splatter ink on the page. 

“The final kind is Demons, formed from living humans. Someone who gives themselves over to resentment and hatred until they can use that energy to hurt others. They don’t live very long - that kind of energy is extremely corrosive when channeled directly through the body, and causes damage.

So, a demonic cultivator is someone who uses resentful energy to cultivate power. The fearsome Yiling Patriarch used the resentful energy from corpses to do his bidding, controlling them from afar. So, while he didn’t use his own resentment, he was still a living person who was using resentful energy from humans.”

Danny was fascinated at the breakdown, and wondered where he would fit in. 

Admittedly, negative emotions like anger and resentment did make his powers flare, but it was hardly sustainable. Most of the stable ghosts he’d encountered ended up with an _obsession._ Something that they could engage with to feel fulfilled. Ghosts were at their most powerful when they were fully immersed in their obsession. 

Ghost Writer’s poetry could warp reality, Skulker manifested ridiculous weapons and traps during a hunt, and Ember’s obsession with fan-worship were all ways they gathered up power. 

To kick their legs out from under them, all you had to do was ruin the flow of it. Break Ember’s instrument, escape Skulker’s ‘impervious’ traps, insert a non-rhyming word into the middle of a poetic scene… none of those things really screamed ‘resentment’ to him. 

“What do you call ghosts who aren’t driven by resentment?” Danny asked. 

Mo Xuanyu paused, a spot of ink smearing over his nose where he was brushing over it absent-mindedly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like, one who has a goal they want to complete before moving on. A ghost who sticks around because they have an unfulfilled wish.”

“If it’s a spirit formed from a dead human it’d still be a Ghost.” Mo Xuanyu tapped the end of the ink brush’s handle on his chin. “But you’re saying there’s a difference?” 

Danny nodded. 

“Sometimes Ghosts don’t have a straightforward wish, like ‘I want revenge on the person who killed me.’ Sometimes it’s more like ‘I want to keep hunting deer forever.’ Or ‘I want to see my daughter grow up.’ Their _obsession_ isn’t angry or resentful. It’s just… strong enough to make them want to stay.”

Mo Xuanyu hummed, slowly drawing on what little space he had left on the back of Danny’s care instructions guide. 

“Like a woman who didn’t realize she was dead, and just wanted to see her husband again?” Mo Xuanyu offered quietly, and Danny nodded. 

“Exactly like that! She’s not mad at being dead, she doesn’t even know she’s dead - she just has a hope that’s strong enough to keep her anchored. What would you call a spirit, who sticks around because of _Obsession_ instead of _Resentment_?” 

Mo Xuanyu looked up at Danny through his bangs. 

“What would you call them?” 

Danny chuckled, uncurling his legs to stretch them out. He didn’t understand how they could sit on their knees like that all day long. 

“I’d just call them all ghosts.”

“Then, your… ghost core? Ghost half?” 

Danny put a finger to his lips in a playful ‘It’s a secret’ gesture. Mo Xuanyu had said earlier he’d dabbled in Demonic cultivation. He’d already admitted to something that apparently was really looked down on in this world. 

Mo Xuanyu was already the only person who he could talk to. Apparently, he was one of the few who could understand why someone would be able to manipulate ghostly energy instead of whatever gooey golden-core stuff they’d shared with him earlier. 

He seemed fascinated, rather than scared of what their conversation implied. He’d already waited for Lan Wangji to leave the room before talking about this sort of thing. Maybe he could be trusted with everything. 

Danny opened his mouth and tried to explain, rubbing the spot where the golden energy transfer had happened. “Even normal humans accidentally harness some of theirs, I think. Like, when someone lifts something enormous off their child, or who pushes past the brink of what should be possible for the human body, in order to fulfill a lifelong goal or save their family. They care about something _so much_ that they pull from something deeper than just their body, and just keep going.” 

Danny felt the small traces of energy under his skin, and closed his eyes with a small smile. Even weak, he could still move it around. 

“ _Obsession_ is a lot more manageable to put to use, compared to something like wrath or resentment.” 

When he opened his eyes, they blazed green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demons, or gui, are common in Chinese folklore- Gui is the secondary soul that is separated from the higher/superior soul (hun) at death. While hun is the spirit of a person, their gui could become a malevolent demon if they aren't treated well in a ritualistic sense. That's part of why it was so important for a respectful and timely burial. "You fucked up his funeral and so his demon is going to haunt your ass" is a recurring theme.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave a comment! I subsist on them. Even if it's just an emoji or keyboard spam!


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